


All I Ever Wanted

by vix_spes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Season/Series 03, WinterMurderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: For their first Christmas in Italy, Will acknowledges something he knew all along.





	All I Ever Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElectraRhodes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/gifts).



Will couldn’t help but sigh happily as they left the church. He didn’t consider himself to be particularly religious – he never had – but, whether he believed in God or not, Hannibal liked attending them and so Will had gone. Normally he wouldn’t bother and would wave Hannibal off while he busied himself around the house but today was special with it being Christmas Eve.

It had been several years since that night when Will had flung them over the cliff and into the water, not having a plan beyond what he was doing, not truly knowing if they would survive the fall. They had, of course, thanks to Chiyoh’s seeming omniscience and ability to be in precisely the right place at exactly the right time. With her help and provision of the necessary paperwork, the two of them had healed from their injuries before Will had sailed them south to Cuba. He and Hannibal had settled into a life there together far easier than Will had ever imagined and they had both been happy, at least for a while.

They had been in Cuba for a year when Will realised that Hannibal wasn’t entirely happy living in Cuba. However, in true Hannibal fashion, he refused to answer a question directly, instead choosing to counter with riddles and more questions, forcing Will to engage in a thrust and parry of words until he finally acknowledged what Will already knew; Hannibal wanted to move on. For the second time, Will found himself making the journey across the Atlantic to Italy where they had settled down just outside of Venice, having decided that returning to Florence was just asking for trouble. As it was, Will had spent the first six months of their sojourn in Italy terrified that they would be recognised.

Somehow – he wasn’t sure how, given Hannibal’s tastes certainly hadn’t changed – they hadn’t been and, when the news had reached them that the FBI was giving up the manhunt for them, they had both breathed a little easier. Hannibal had talked himself into a job as a conservator and, for the time being, Will was happy being nothing more than a house husband. He did odd jobs around the house and the neighbourhood, as well as looking after Encephalitis, the puppy that Hannibal had gifted him with unexpectedly.

They had a life together that Will had never expected, a life just like any other normal couple. They spent evenings reading and talking together or occupying themselves yet existing in the same space, Will making his lures and Hannibal seated at the harpsichord. There were frequent trips to the Mercato di Rialto, where Will would watch Hannibal making his selections, flirting lightly with the female stallholders to make sure that he got the best before Will made his own selections of what he couldn’t catch himself from the fish stalls, conversing clumsily with the fishermen in Italian that grew more fluent each week. Will had even succumbed and accompanied Hannibal to the Teatro de Fenice on several occasions although Hannibal had more than made his appreciation known when they had returned home.

And then there were the dinner parties.

Will had known when they had survived the fall, that Hannibal was never going to be able to give up killing; it was part of him, the Ripper and Il Mostro. Not only that, but Will didn’t want him to give it up. Instead, they had struck a compromise; Hannibal cut back on the killing in order to avoid bringing too much attention to them while, in return, Will would either select the victims or join Hannibal on the hunt. The social elite of Venice had no idea that, when they attended dinner parties at the house of the cities newest and most intriguing conservator and his reclusive husband, they were consuming human flesh as part of the elaborate and beautifully presented recipes.

This was to be their first Christmas in Italy. They had spent one holiday season in Cuba and, while Hannibal had – unsurprisingly – gone all out with the food, it had just felt wrong to Will. He was used to snow and having to bundle up in warm coats and beanie hats, not balmy temperatures and bright sunshine. The bitterly cold temperatures of northern Italy were more familiar to him, even if he did have to suppress his laughter every time that Hannibal produced his ridiculous furry hat with the ear flaps. Christmas trees hadn’t been particularly easy to come by in Venice itself so Will had taken the truck that was his and gone for a drive to find one that not only was he happy with but that would also meet Hannibal’s exacting standards. Said exacting standards had been met and then Will had spent an awful lot of time rolling his eyes as they proceeded to decorate the tree; apparently just hanging the decorations any which way wasn’t done.

Hannibal had cooked them an elaborate meal earlier that evening, full of seafood as was traditional for an Italian Christmas Eve, which they had eaten before going to mass. There had been fresh fish from the markets, all beautifully prepared in a multitude of different dishes and even clams and oysters. For Christmas Day however, Hannibal had gone all out. Meat was most definitely back on the menu. Hannibal had made his own pasta which would be accompanied by meat taken from an animal abuser Will had come across one day, a whole host of desserts and then crostini served with pate made from the liver or a particularly obnoxious visiting academic who had questioned every single thing that Hannibal said.

As they drew close to the house, Will stopped in his tracks, pulling Hannibal to a stop and forcing him to turn around, looking at Will with a questioning glance.

“It’s all I ever wanted,” Will spoke softly, consciously echoing Hannibal’s words from when they had stood on the cliff edge having taken down the Great Red Dragon.

“What, Natale in Italy?”

Will rolled his eyes, knowing that Hannibal was being deliberately obtuse. “Yes, of course, Christmas in Italy is all I ever wanted. No, I meant this. I just never realised I wanted it, or I never wanted to admit I wanted it. A life with you. All of it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Nothing?” Hannibal arched an eyebrow in that sardonic way of his that had Will unsure as to whether he wanted to smack his stupidly handsome face or kiss it.

“Well, I could have maybe done without the imprisonment for both of us, you trying to kill me, me trying to kill you, you killing Abigail but yeah … the rest of it? Wouldn’t change any of it.”

Will smiled as Hannibal’s face softened, his hand reaching out to stroke over the scar on Will’s cheek. “Buon Natale, mylimasis.”

“Buon Natale, Hannibal.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on DW, you can do so [here](https://vix-spes.dreamwidth.org/290765.html)
> 
> If you'd like to share on Tumblr, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.tumblr.com/post/168972207475/all-i-ever-wanted-vixspes-hannibal-tv)


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